


I have waited for the rain to come (lovely bitter water)

by Undercore



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Memories of Past Lives, Obi-wan WILL be the difficult one out of the two of them, Obi-wan will see his soulmate and r u n, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Soulmates, We'll see where this goes!, at least Jango will try, attachment? in this jedi household? Oh I don't think so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undercore/pseuds/Undercore
Summary: Obi-wan knew this man so deeply and loved him so fiercely, he didn’t know how he ever lived without him.“You good?” the man murmured, his brow beginning to furrow as the silence dragged on.Obi-wan nodded, pulling him up the steps so that they were both standing in the doorway, almost squished together.He pressed his forehead against the other man’s, basking in his physical presence.“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”, he breathed against his husband’s lips.When Obi-wan woke up, all he could do was stare at the dark outline of the ceiling and suppress the urge to scream.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 368





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well! It's been a hot fucking minute since I've written any fanfiction, let alone posted it! Feel the urge to warn that this is- my first piece in ah, 4 years? I don't write much, but I want to start doing it more so //waves hands// here I go!

Sometimes Obi-wan dreams of someone he knows. 

Well, he doesn’t _actually_ know them, but it’s the same person every time and they feel familiar like he _should_ know who they are.

It’s usually never the same dream, the scenarios vary wildly. 

In a sense, they feel more like memories than dreams, but that- doesn’t make much sense.

Once, he was standing in a field, harvesting that year’s produce with practiced ease, the morning sun only just hovering above the horizon, illuminating the rolling hills with warm light and chasing away the lingering mist and dew.

He heard someone call his name, except it wasn’t actually his name, and jerked up, instinctively looking across the field towards a gate.

There stood the person he knew, a bright smile illuminating their face as they carefully made their way across the field to him, wearing armor that looked _ancient_ in style. Their hair, wavy, black, was pulled back into a loose bun, their scarred face was relaxed but had a hard edge to it, a vague sense of danger clinging to them.

It didn’t seem to bother him, in his dream.

Instead, he felt himself smiling back at the stranger, a surge of _love-joy-relief_ rushing through him as he dropped his produce in a basket beside himself and strode forward, meeting the person halfway.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pressing him tightly against the metal armor. It dug into his skin uncomfortably but Obi-wan couldn’t bring himself to care. Pressing his face into the crook of this familiar stranger’s neck, he let himself enjoy being held. Safe.

“I missed you,” his dream-self sighed, “Worried I’d have to come after you and save your sorry ass from Verille.”  
  
The stranger snorted, pressing a quick kiss to Obi-wan’s temple. “ If I needed saving from Verille of all people, I think I’d rather you let me just die.”  
  
Obi-wan huffed, pulling away slightly. “ Yes, well, do try come home sooner rather than later, the harvest isn't over yet and if you think I’m doing all this by myself while Da’yara is gone, you are sorely mistaken.”  
  
The other man's smile softened a bit before he leaned in to give Obi-wan a brief kiss.  
  
“I promise you won’t ever have to harvest the fields by yourself, _cyar’ika_. I’m not that kind of _riduur.”_  
  
He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully before adding “ And the next time Verille calls us to battle, you’ll be by my side.”

Obi-wan drew away fully, a hand reaching out to grab the other’s, tugging them down the field towards a moderately sized cottage.  
  
“Good, because If you leave me behind again like a giant ass, _I’ll_ be the one ending you,” his dream self warned sharply, turning his head to give the other a stern glare. 

He only earned himself a soft chuckle, the hand he was holding squeezing gently as they reached the front steps, “ As is your right, _ka’rta_ ” 

Obi-wan hummed in agreement, pushing the door open but blocking the doorway so that he could look down at the stranger, an undercurrent of joy and fondness tingling beneath his skin as he did.

He knew this man, he knew him well. 

He knew the shape of his face, the greying hair at his temples, the criss-cross of scars on his skin, the deep warm brown of his eyes, knew the arch of his eyebrow as Obi-wan’s pause stretched on, his blue-grey eyes meeting the other man’s brown and holding it without discomfort.

 _Obi-wan knew this man_.

He knew how he looked crawling out of bed before the sun had risen, grumpy and irritated at being awake but getting up nevertheless because he had a job to do.

He knew how he took his tea, how the smell of ginger irritated him, how the garish painting Obi-wan had hung up in the hallway made him sigh every time he saw it.

He knew that he could trust this man with his life, that he’d had him pressed to his back as they faced any amount of opponents countless times. Knew if he stumbled, he’d be there to steady him. If he fell, he’d be there to stand in his place and continue fighting.

Obi-wan knew this man so deeply and loved him so fiercely, he didn’t know how he ever lived without him.  
  
“You good?” the man murmured, his brow beginning to furrow as the silence dragged on.  
  
Obi-wan nodded, pulling him up the steps so that they were both standing in the doorway, almost squished together.  
  
He pressed his forehead against the other man’s, basking in his physical presence.  
  
“ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_ ”, he breathed against his husband’s lips.

When Obi-wan woke up, all he could do was stare at the dark outline of the ceiling and suppress the urge to scream. 

There was never a name. Never any sense of actually identifying who the man of his dreams was.

His face didn’t linger, his features blurred in his memory. He’d remember some small detail of his appearance for the briefest of moments when he awoke, but as soon as he tried to focus on it, really commit it to memory, it would lose its substance and dissolve.

He’d tried meditating on it but it didn’t help, it just made him more frustrated.

He’d brought it up to Qui-gon once, but his master had just given him a slightly baffled stare and then gently reminded him to focus on the present and not some odd- half memory dream. Whatever it was, it was either far in the past or far in the future and didn’t require any of their concern or focus. 

_Especially_ if it involved Obi-wan married to some sort of mercenary soldier.

Obi-wan didn’t mention it again, especially didn’t mention the dreams he’d had of children and family or of himself standing next to his warrior husband on a battle-field. 

The dreams always left him with an ache in his chest, a longing, a want which he very unsuccessfully tried to squash.

Whatever the dreams were, they weren’t his life _now_.

He was a Jedi, he wouldn’t marry or have children or be a _soldier in a war._

But he did wonder what the dreams could mean. If not his future, did that mean they were some kind of past? Was he getting someone else’s memories? echoes from another person’s life? 

Maybe they were just- dreams. Terribly vivid and consistent dreams but just dreams either way.

A feeling deep in his gut, which Obi-wan pointedly ignored, told him that that wasn’t true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translation:
> 
> cyar’ika - darling, beloved, sweetheart  
> riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife  
> ka'rta - soul, heart  
> Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - 'I love you' ( lit. ' I hold you in my heart for eternity/forever' )


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dreams Obi-wan has aren't as comforting.

Obi-wan breathed out slowly, shifting his legs and sliding into the next saber form smoothly, his muscles trembling slightly at the strain of the repeated motion.

He’d been going through his katas, repeatedly, for the past hour trying to vent the frustration that he couldn’t shed off into the force. It clung to him like sticky honey, just like the echoes of his dreams clung to his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it and that was just making him think about it more and that was making him even _more_ frustrated.

His master was sitting by the window in the corner of their shared quarters, siping at the cup of tea he had made himself after Obi-wan had made no indication of stopping after nearly half an hour.

He hadn’t commented on Obi-wan’s sudden interruption of their joint meditation to do katas by himself instead but he could _feel_ his gaze on the back of his neck, watching him with a mix of confusion and concern and it made his skin itch.

There was a soft inquiring nudge over their bond, prodding at Obi-wan’s shield but he waved it off, not wanting to talk about it. Qui-gon wouldn’t understand. He also didn’t want to admit to his Master how bad he was dealing with his emotions currently.

They were just dreams, they shouldn’t be bothering him this much- they weren’t even visions, there wasn’t anything useful he could glean from them. 

He let out another puff of air, lifting his arms and holding the position. He was going purposefully slow, drawing out the movement. It required more effort and he hoped it would center him enough.

_The salty, cool breeze of ocean air. The gentle rocking of the floor beneath his boots. The rushing sound of water. A looming, shadowed building growing closer in the distance,_

_An arm slinging across his waist and pulling him closer._

_Lips brushing against his ears._ _  
_ _  
_ _“ You ready?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Of course.”_

He clenched his jaw, stepping back and repeating the motion.  
  


_  
_ _A rocky shore, gravel crunching beneath his feet. The rustling of wild, unkempt yellow grass. A ship fading into the horizon’s mist. Looking up at the crumbling ruins of a temple._

 _“ So, this is where we’re going to find the artifact?” Skeptical. Unsurprising. Not the first place they’ve searched._ _  
_ _  
_ _He looked over at another man, stern face marred with scars and tattoos. Dark clothing, a proto saber resting at his hip next to a powerpack. Brown eyes met his, exhaustion and wariness pooling in those familiar depths._

 _He felt himself nod, starting to head up the slope towards the temple entrance._ _  
_ _  
__“ It will be here. I trust my sources, they’ve yet to fail me.”_ _  
__  
__“Pretty sure you said that about the last five kriffing ruins we’ve been to.”_ _  
__  
__“ And we found something useful in all of those temples, didn’t we? Hardly a waste of time. Now come on, we need to hurry before we’re noticed.”_

  
  


He stepped forward, bringing his saber down. _Focus_ , he begged his mind. He didn’t want to remember this dream. 

_Shadows curling along the edges of the grand entrance hall. Hissing whispers, vibrating the air around them. A sharp chill in the air that had nothing to do with the changing seasons._

_‘Welcome brothers’, a soothing purr that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, drowning out the violent whispers. The silence after was oppressive._

_‘ Far too much time has passed since a Sith last found their way to this sanctuary of mine ‘_

_He felt himself bow, “ An honor it is to be permitted to enter your library, Lady Yatra. We come seeking knowledge, as all those who arrive at your door do.”_

_‘ As one should. Be at ease, brothers. These halls are safe, you will rest. No one will disturb you while you sate your lust for knowledge and find strength once again. I shall watch over you.`_

_An irritated grunt came from his right._ _  
_ _  
_ _“ And what will this cost us?”_

 _The walls and floor trembled slightly, an echo of amusement filling the air._ _  
_ _  
_ _`Little Sith, I ask nothing more than what you can give. Knowledge in exchange for knowledge. A fair trade. After you have rested, you will tell me more about the changing tides.`_ _  
_ _  
_ _He felt himself smile. “ Of course, Lady Yatra. We will have much to talk about.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _A soft rumble as the walls shifted and a new hallway appeared in front of them._

_He cast a grin at his disgruntled companion before striding forward._

  
  


Obi-wan slid into the final form, a tremor running through his outstretched arm and he let himself relax, biting back a sigh.

He was tired now. His muscles aching and skin slick with sweat but his mind was still chaotic, unwilling to settle. 

Sith. He’d been _a Sith_ in his dream. Had felt the darkness curl inside of him, across his skin, across his mind. Heavy, familiar, familiar, familiar.

He was getting tired of things he didn’t know being familiar.

“ Obi-wan.”

He turned slightly, glaring at his Master who offered him a faint smile in turn.  
  
“ Why don’t you sit down and have some tea? You’ve been pushing yourself quite hard, padawan.”  
  
He hesitated. Tea would probably lead to questions. Questions he didn’t know how to answer. Besides, it wasn’t important. They didn’t ring with the shifting truth of the future.

So why did it bother him so much? 

He shook his head, switching off his saber and clipping it to his belt. Accepting the small towel to wipe his face, he sat down across from his master. He _was_ quite thirsty.

They sat there for a few moments, sipping their tea while Obi-wan waited for his heart-beat to settle. His master’s gaze was trained out of the window, watching the late-morning traffic wiz by in the distance. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun and he was still wearing his sleepwear, not having gotten himself dressed properly yet. They didn’t have anything in particular planned today, so it was a fairly slow, relaxed morning.

Well, relaxed for his master.

“ Something has been troubling you for quite some time now, Obi-wan.” It wasn’t a question.

He flinched as the peaceful quiet was broken, grimacing at his master over his cup. 

“ Oh?” he sighed, sipping his tea.

Blue eyes slid over to pin him down. 

“ Usually I would prefer not to pry, you deserve your privacy. However, whatever is weighing on your mind is distracting you in your training, I _am_ worried. Are you having visions again?”

Obi-wan sighed, taking another deep sip from his tea to stall as he weighed the pros and cons of denying the question. 

Visions felt like the Force was wrenching open his mind against his will to shove vague warnings of the future into it, hitting him almost violently with their intensity and leaving him feeling numb when he recovered. 

They didn’t hurt but it was an overwhelming experience, the entirety of the Force filling him for a split second- far too much for his tiny human body to be able to contain and then abruptly exiting, leaving his body aching with the shock.

It certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience and he was usually agitated afterward so he could see why Qui-gon might jump to that conclusion but- his dreams weren’t like that. They felt- warm. Soothing. Like someone reaching out to hold his hand and squeezing gently to remind him that they were there. He wasn’t alone. He always felt well-rested after having one of those dreams, the opposite of post-vision mornings.

Last night’s dream though- He’d been a kriffing Darksider. Not visions, but not just dreams. But whatever he’d seen had some sort of meaning, some sort of _truth_ to it that made his skin itch. Not just dreams. Who was the other man he kept seeing?

“ No, it’s not visions,” he admitted quietly.

“ Not visions then, but something similar?”

He shrugged, looking out of the window at the slowly moving traffic in the distance to avoid Qui-gon’s inquiring gaze.  
  
“ I really couldn’t say, Master.”  
  
There was a slight pause after that, Obi-wan feeling a pulse of annoyance over their bond but it was brushed away as soon as he felt it. This conversation would not be dropped anytime soon, it would seem. 

He knew his Master wasn’t very interested in visions and predictions, preferring to immerse himself in the here and now and focusing on shaping the present rather than letting himself be guided by uncertain possibilities and baseless fear. 

That didn’t mean Qui-gon completely dismissed Obi-wan in regard to his Force visions, he wasn’t as foolish as to completely dismiss an aspect of the Force simply because it was not his strength. He just didn’t encourage excessive worrying or focus on just one of many possible futures. 

Obi-wan envied his Master’s ability to not stress over every little thing.

His master let out a soft sigh, refilling his cup. “ Is it those strange dreams, the ones you told me about?”  
  
“ Perhaps.”  
  
“ Obi-wan.”

“ It’s-” Obi-wan let out a frustrated sigh, “ It shouldn’t be bothering me as much as it is.”  
  
Qui-gon gave a soft hum, “ And what exactly about your dreams is bothering you?”  
  
He rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. “ I don’t know. I told you it’s- they feel like memories. Like- they’ve happened before but that’s not possible. And usually it’s fine. They’re not bad dreams, it’s just what I dreamt of last night, it was- disturbing.”  
  
“ Disturbing?”

“ Yes,” Obi-wan paused, hesitating to voice the true contents of his dream but the reassuring warmth he felt trickle through their training bond, encouraging and steadying in equal measures, settled him enough to push his anxieties aside. 

He could trust his Master, their relationship had been a bit rocky in the beginning but they were getting better, at trusting and at communicating. 

If his Master was going through the effort of reaching out, he could at least meet him halfway. 

“ I was arriving at this- old temple by the sea, by boat. It looked like it’d been abandoned for a long time but I wasn’t alone. There was another man with me,” as there always is, he thought.  
  
“ He had a lightsaber, but a very old kind, one that still required a power pack to be attached, and he, well, he was a Darksider- but not hostile. It looked like we were working together.” 

Oh, they’d been doing far more than just working together but _that_ was not relevant.

“ We were looking for some kind of artifact and I’d been very sure that we’d find it within the temple. When we entered, it wasn’t completely abandoned. There was this.. presence in the force that seemed to fill the entire temple. It spoke with us and..” he bit his lips, “ addressed us as Sith.”

Obi-wan felt a flicker of surprise across their bond and watched as one of Qui-gon’s brows ticked up.  
  
“ You dreamt of being a Sith?”  
  
Obi-wan shrugged again, running his finger along the rim of his teacup.  
  
“As I said, disturbing. But _not_ a vision.”  
  
He heard his teacher hum thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall.  
  
“ Was there any more to your dream?”  
  
Obi-wan nodded.

  
  
_Ancient, well-worn steps leading down into stale darkness. Warm fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist as he’s led blindly forward._

_A flicker of eerie purple light popping up in front of them. Then another, then another until a vast library is illuminated in front of them in the dark glow of the floating lights._

_A low whistle from his left. “ I’m never gonna get you to leave this place, am I.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He gave his companion a look of amusement, stepping forward to trace his fingers along the sturdy wooden shelf that contained actual physical books made out of a variety of materials. They were in surprisingly good condition._

_Looking up he felt a twinge of excitement and awe as the shelves seem to just continue on forever, fading off into the distance. So much knowledge and it was all now just at his fingertips, if he wanted to take it he could._

_He continued to walk, feeling his companion trail after him. Neither of them paused to inspect the labels of any of the books, though, Force knows he desperately wanted to._

_This knowledge did not come for free and they did not want to take more than they could repay. They didn’t know what the ancient Sith ghost would demand from them if they ran out of information to give her and they weren’t going to risk finding out._

_Better to just get what they came for and leave._ _  
_ _  
_ _He followed the pull of the Force through the seemingly endless library, passing by dozens of books which turned into rolls of parchment bundled together which turned into blocks of stone, wax, and clay with carved scriptures carefully arranged within display cases._

_After that came shelves filled with pots and vases, then displays containing ancient weaponry and armor, and finally displays with old crystals._

_He slowed his pace, scanning the various shimmering rocks and minerals. Many of them were kyber crystals, of those most of them were red, still bleeding from corruption. He passed by a couple of tables before pausing._

_Sitting between a transparent orange kyber crystal and a necklace decorated with dark red diamonds was a small box._

_It could fit in the palm of his hand, built out of a thin metal frame with opaque panes of glass slotted in between. Within there was a softly glowing kyber that twisted and curved looking like two separate crystals had fused and curled around each other to become one._

_He heard a soft hitch of breath behind him, his companion pressing closer to peer over his shoulder._ _  
_ _  
_ _“ Is that-”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He felt himself smile, leaning back against the other man._ _  
_ _  
_ _“ Yes,” he breathed, reaching to grab the other man’s hand. “ Our kybers.”_

  
  


“Your kybers?” Qui-gon asked softly, rubbing at his chin.

Obi-wan shrugged, “ Yeah, my dreams are- weird. I only have some of the context, there’s always so many things I just don’t know, even though I feel I _should_. I don’t really know what dream-me meant with... that.”

Qui-gon stared at him thoughtfully, his face carefully blank. “ And this library you saw...”

He shook his head, “ I have no idea where it is. I was just- _there_ in my dream. “

His master hummed, shifting his gaze from Obi-wan back to the skyline.  
  
“ Well, it certainly is an interesting dream, my young padawan. Have you discussed these with anyone else?”  
  
Obi-wan shifted anxiously, “ Uh, not really? They’re just weird dreams.” He hoped, at least.

Qui-gon gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher, “ If you say so, Obi-wan.” Then he pushed himself up, stretching. “ I would still recommend perhaps visiting Master Yoda, he might have further insight into what you saw.”

Obi-wan frowned, watching his master pick up their empty teacups and dump them in the sink of their little kitchenette. “ You think this is something important enough to bother Master Yoda with?”  
  
“ You won’t be _bothering_ your great-grandmaster by asking for his counsel, Obi-wan. These dreams have been troubling you for a while, even before the one you had last night, and I am unable to offer you any comfort regarding them, seeing as this is not my area of expertise .” 

He waved his hand, making for his bedroom with the parting words, “ Now go shower, Obi-wan. You’re terribly sweaty.”

He scowled at his master’s retreating form, fiddling with his padawan braid as he mulled it over.

 _Maybe_ he should talk with the old master, but he’d rather try and figure this out by himself first. This wasn’t a pressing matter and he was sure the grandmaster would have more serious issues to deal with. 

He sighed, pushing himself up to go and take a shower as his master had so kindly reminded him to do. He could worry about this more after breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late update! I rewrote this chapter like 3 times and then stared at it unhappily in my docs folder haha, I'll try to post more often, I've already started writing the next chapter (；・∀・)


End file.
